She had to make peace with him.

The door opened behind her, and she started. It was Rosa, her face cool and hostile.

“I have clothing here for you,” she said. “You are probably too fat for it, but it’s the best I could do.”

She dumped a pile of fabric rudely on the bed and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Whatever else Rosa might be, she certainly wasn’t a potential ally.

She walked over to the clothing and sifted through it, discovering several light, simple cotton blouses and long flowing skirts in bright colors. No bra and underwear, but she could wash out the ones she wore.

Not wearing underwear might turn him on… anything she could do to keep him interested was a good thing.

She pulled off her oversized, male clothing and pulled on the fresh garments. The light cotton blouse had a loose, wide neckline that dipped low. She looked in the mirror, noting that her breasts filled it out nicely, and thankful that they were small enough that she could get away with not wearing a bra. Her nipples formed pert peaks underneath the fabric, and she imagined she could see just a hint of color through the thin cotton. She pulled on the skirt next, enjoying the swirl of it around her ankles. The thin cotton might be enveloping, but she had no doubt direct sunlight would render it nearly transparent.

Normally she would have been embarrassed to wear something like this, but now she put her shoulders back and shook out her hair. There was power in being female, a power that she needed to tap into and use to the best of her ability. This clothing was perfect.

She went into the bathroom and had started to rinse out her bra when she heard the door open again.

She walked back out and saw Sean standing there. He looked at her with darkened eyes, a thoughtful, calculating expression on his face.

“Hello,” she said softly, smiling at him. Things seemed less strange with him in the room. He was her link to reality, the reason she was there.

“Rosa gave me some new clothing,” she said unnecessarily. His eyes flickered across her figure, pausing at her breasts, and she thrust them out toward him.

“I like it,” she said, walking toward him, allowing her hips to swing as she moved. “It’s cool and comfortable.”

He stayed silent, so she sashayed closer, resting one hand on his chest.

“You seem tired,” she said. “Do you want to come to bed and rest? I’d be happy to give you a massage.”

“How about a blow job?” he asked, his eyes boring into hers. “That’s more along the lines of what I’d like.”

He seemed distant, almost angry, but she nodded her head and gave a hesitant smile. She could do this, nothing to worry about. She reached for the waistband of his pants, unfastening them carefully. He wore boxers, plain white ones. What now? He didn’t do anything to help her, and she pulled back hesitantly.

“Where do you want me to do it?” she asked softly. “There’s got to be a better place than right here in the middle of the room.”

“Why do you care?” he asked, all but snarling. “I thought you were a professional. Don’t tell me you’re uncomfortable giving me a simple blowjob. Drop to your knees and do it.”

She nodded, and wished for the thousandth time that she hadn’t taken the private appointment with Edgar. Then she gave herself a mental shake. No time for regrets.

Sandra dropped to her knees, grasping the fabric of his pants to steady herself as she swayed. Kneeling, she could see the bulge of his penis beneath the boxers. She took a deep breath, reached both hands up and grasped the waistband. She had done this with Matt, she reminded herself, and at least this guy wasn’t lying to her like her fiancé had.

Slowly the boxers came down. His penis bobbed before her, an angry red giant that seemed far too large for her mouth to accommodate. She licked her lips nervously and shot him a quick glance. He still stared at her with that strange, angry expression on his face, as if she’d disappointed him. What did he want from her?

It was too scary to imagine what was going through his head, so she turned her attention back to the task at hand. She reached out, tracing the edge of the head with one finger. He didn’t respond, although his erection bobbed under her touch. She let her hand fall lower, grasping the smooth, silky shaft with gentle force. Then she leaned her head forward and delicately touched her tongue to the very tip of his length.

He shuddered, and she took it as a sign of encouragement. Sticking her tongue out further, she swirled it around the head a couple times, allowing her saliva to run out and lubricate his flesh before closing her mouth around the tip. He shuddered, one hand coming to rest on the back of her head, giving an ever-so-slight pressure as he pulled her closer to him. She opened her mouth further, allowing his hard length to come into her.

At first it seemed he was so large he would choke her, and she hadn’t even gotten more than a few inches past the head. But after a moment her mouth relaxed and opened further, and he pushed in deeper. She laved her tongue along his length, then pulled back her head and let some of him come free.

Time to start the rhythm that drove men crazy. She’d done it for Matt, and he’d always said she was a good little cocksucker, she thought in disgust. Of course, he’d never said anything so foul to her face.

He’d waited until they had broken up, and then shared the story of their last time together with all of his friends. Sean might be a kidnapper, but so far he was more of a gentleman than that asshole.

She pushed the horrible thought out of her head, preferring to focus on the task at hand. She found that if she rubbed her hand up and down along his shaft as she sucked at him, he seemed to appreciate it. He still said nothing, but his hand tightened on her hair. She could feel the first drops of his seed in her mouth now, just a little salty taste of what was to come. She had always hated the taste of a man’s semen, but his wasn’t that bad. Almost sweet in a way, and very pleasant. Without thinking she sucked harder, as if to pull more of the juice from him.

He grunted and she swallowed more of his cock. It had gotten to the point where she actually wanted him in her. She could feel her breasts swelling, and knew there was moisture building between her legs.

What kind of slut was she? The kind who wants to stay alive, her brain told her firmly. The kind who knows that having sex to survive would be more palatable if she could bring herself to enjoy it. There were worse fates than being forced to make love to a man who was incredibly handsome, and more than a little attractive to her. Her situation might be precarious, but she still had a few chances left. She needed to make the most of the fragile bond he’d formed with her.

She sucked him in deeper, wrapping one arm around his waist to support herself. Unconsciously she dug her fingers into the taut muscle of his ass, and he seemed to like the sensation. His cock surged within her mouth and more of his fluid seeped out of his slit.

With every thrust she tried to massage him with her tongue, and each time he pulled out she used suction to hold him as long as she could. Back and forth, in and out. Her hand worked furiously, rubbing along his length and taking care of the parts that her mouth couldn’t reach. She felt his other hand grip the back of her head and knew he was getting close.

Then he shifted, letting his legs stand apart a bit, giving her better access. She used the opportunity to reach between his buttocks, allowing her fingers to play with the tightened skin of his scrotum. His balls pulled up close to his body as he neared ejaculation. She suctioned harder, working him as hard as she could, driving him closer to orgasm even as her fingers plucked at his balls, pulling on them lightly.

He gave a startled groan above her and his fingers tightened in her hair to the point of pain. She ignored it, putting everything she had into sucking him. He started to thrust into her harder and she felt the skin of his cock harden almost beyond imagining.

With a harsh cry, he shot his seed into her mouth, all but choking her. The salty, sweet fluid tasted better than any she’d had before, and she found herself swallowing it without feeling sick as she had so often with Matt. Burst after burst of his essence filled her and she sucked it down greedily.

Finally it stopped. She took a moment to lick around his cock, cleaning it up, and then sat back on her heels. His hands were gone from her head, and when she looked up at him he seemed lost in thought.

“We have to talk,” he said after a moment. He wiped his forehead and she noticed a bead of sweat making its way down his temple. “Let’s go out on the balcony. It’s a lovely place to sit and visit.”

Absently wiping her mouth against her sleeve, she accepted the hand up he offered. His fingers were hard, filled with strength, and once again she sensed that tension in him. Whatever was bothering him, sex hadn’t taken the edge off. When they were sitting comfortably in the two chairs on either side of the small table on their balcony, he turned to look at her.

“I know who you are, Sandra Vicars,” he said softly. “And I know you’re not a whore, even though you’re doing your best to act like one. Now I need to figure out what to do with you. Valzar wants me to kill you, says I need to do it for my own safety. What other options do you have for me?”

Chapter Seven

She froze, completely unable to think of anything to say. How had he figured it out? She could only think of one way.

“Am I really that crappy in the sack?” she asked.

His face froze and he made a sudden choking noise.

“I can’t believe you just asked that,” he said. “Of all the things you have to worry about right now…”

She bit her lip, realizing he was absolutely right. She wasn’t thinking at all. She didn’t want to think, it was too scary.

“If you just let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone about you,” she said. “Honestly, I don’t care if they catch you at all. I just want to get out of this alive. Is that so hard for you to believe?”

“I can’t let you go,” he said slowly.

“You don’t trust me, I can understand that,” she said, feeling herself grow hysterical. “But I honestly don’t know anything about you. I don’t even know what country we’re in. I don’t care; I just want to go home!”

She cut herself off abruptly. She needed to calm down, think clearly. This was her big chance to make a case for herself and she couldn’t afford to blow it. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them, peering directly into his.

“Please, let me go,” she said softly.

He shook his head slowly, and she thought she saw genuine sadness there. It puzzled her.

“I can’t let you go, Sandra,” he said slowly. “You’re already dead.”

She cocked her head at him, and then moaned as his words sank in.

“You’re going to kill me right now?” she asked, and something inside snapped. It was too much. She stood abruptly, the chair she’d been sitting in falling to the floor behind her with a loud clanging noise.

Fury filled her. It was time to fight back.

“Fuck you,” she said in a cold voice. “I hope they catch you and kill you. I hope that they stick you in an electric chair and fry you, and if I had the chance I’d push that needle plunger down myself.”

“They don’t use a needle in the electric chair,” he said reasonably, standing and reaching out toward her.

Sandra stumbled back, desperate to get away from him. She wouldn’t go down easy. She balled her fist up and slammed it into his stomach with as much force a she could muster. Pain seared through her clenched hand. She shook it, hissing and trying to catch her breath. Apparently unfazed by her attack, he grabbed her upper arms and shook her.

“Settle down and listen to me,” he said. She responded by lunging forward and biting into the solid muscle of his chest with every bit of strength she had. Her teeth struck deep and true, and she shook her head like a rabid dog, worrying at his flesh. She brought her knee up to attack his groin, but the motion threw her off balance and he managed to block her attack.

“Stop it,” he roared. “Listen to me, I’m not going to hurt you. Please let me explain, and stop biting me.”

The words filtered through to her enraged consciousness. Slowly she let up on her attack. Her jaws held him so tightly she had to will them open, the muscles not responding at first. Then she was free, though she noted with some satisfaction that his shirt was rapidly turning red from blood.